


Snowbank, 2017

by effulgence



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Bear Beomgyu, Best Friends Choi Beomgyu & Choi Yeonjun, Blood and Injury, Childhood Friends, Choi Yeonjun-Centric, Crying, Dragon Yeonjun, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Human Choi Soobin, Implied Sexual Content, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Mild Gore, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Time Skips, Tragic Romance, bear with me, don't read if you're not prepared for emotional turmoil, this is NOT a hybrid au, this is a tragic love story, tortured myself for a month writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:15:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effulgence/pseuds/effulgence
Summary: Soobin, tall, strong, but so human, was all Yeonjun had ever known.Here's a story of what once was.
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	Snowbank, 2017

[7]

"Yeonjun, please tell me your last shift wasn't too long ago..." His mother's voice was practically static through his phone, but Yeonjun heard the desperation all too clearly, "you know it's healthy to do it regularly."

Yeonjun couldn't help but allow his wings to curl around him in a semblance of safety. The brush of his feathers and slide of his scales always comforted him to an inexplicable degree.

She knows everything, as a mom often does, and Yeonjun sometimes wished it just... wasn't like that. Horrible to say, but his mother's worrying was nothing but a burden, and Yeonjun found it hard to continuously lie to her; Specifically the part where he doesn't shift, because he fucking hates it. 

"I know, Mom, hasn't been too long! I've just been loaded with finals, but I promise I'm fine," Yeonjun made sure to keep a positive lilt in his voice, caring for his mom enough to do that.

She's too far away from him to worry like this. Yeonjun simply couldn't fathom making her bear the weight of things outside his college grades; like the fact that his disdain for shifting, really, stems from the fear of that one time happening again. It couldn't happen again if he just never shifted, that's all there is to it. Easy as that. He often wondered if his mother was aware, but she kept silent.

"I-, well, I know it's hard, but I'll trust you, Yeonjun.

Oh, but don't forget to scrub those pretty scales, okay? I know you're responsible, so I'm sorry, but I'm a mom." 

He heard the sadness in her voice, veiled by that cheery persona of hers. Perhaps it was the distance getting to her, or the fact that she knew, in her core, that Yeonjun was lying.

"I miss you, Mom, let's call again soon, yeah?" Yeonjun felt his cheeks rise into a smile, one that is pained but happy nevertheless, the kind reserved for a mother. 

"Of course. Bye bye." The phone beeped.

[2]

"Yeonjun-hyung," Beomgyu said, breaking the silence between them and their textbooks. 

"Mhm?" Yeonjun didn't bother looking up from the paragraph he'd been failing to absorb; he knew what face his college best friend was probably making at the moment. The whole round, bear cub eyes and pouted mouth. 

"I read something the other day," Beomgyu continued, but stopped at that. He wanted Yeonjun to look up, the elder knows, so he obliged, but not without putting his pen down in a lightly annoyed manner. 

"Continue, please," Yeonjun huffed, his frustration fueled by the hours of studying. Beomgyu was patient and all too understanding. 

"Okay, well... It was about you, you know, Dragon-Borns," Beomgyu's fuzzed ears went back, black fur hiding in the equally dark hair of his head, hesitant. "You never told me you can, like... Shift into an actual freaking dragon." 

Ah, this topic. 

Beomgyu was his best friend, no doubt, but it'd only been about a year since they'd met during a psych lecture, and Yeonjun just wasn't open about that part of him. He didn't want to leave Beomgyu in the dark, of course not, but it just never came up, or so Yeonjun told himself.

Truly, there had been instances in which he could've said something, naturally, but the words were always stuck to the tip of Yeonjun's tongue. It was just so fragile for him. 

Perhaps Beomgyu felt the tension rise, to Yeonjun's sudden dismay, because he leaned closer, office chair squeaking, and he said, quietly and tentatively, "you good, Hyung? It's not a big deal or anything, right? I hope. I just... Dragon-Borns are so rare, which you know of course, so I'm ignorant, I suppose. I..." 

"Oh, yes, I'm okay, Beomgyu," Yeonjun turned to smile, albeit weakly. He hated to upset his best friend, especially when he's nothing but curious, innocently so. "No biggie, you're my best friend."

"Then, can you? Shift, I mean?" Beomgyu was relentless, even if coated in sugar, sweet as he is. A cheeky smile rose upon his face.

Yeonjun nodded, slowly, feeling that familiar pang of anxiety hit his chest. It's just Beomgyu, it's okay, it's just him. 

Beomgyu's eyes widened, his sharp, bear teeth on display, "That's fucking cool. Seriously!" 

Yeonjun didn't know what to think, really. Perhaps, a normal Dragon-Born would feel flattered, but this was Yeonjun, and he was far from those who walked with pride as a descendent of dragons, like the ones who shift any chance they get. Don't get him wrong, Yeonjun has always cherished his wings, even through the social prejudices, but that swell of pride he used to feel had long since melted away, the exact reason being why he's so quiet about the inner workings of himself.

Yeonjun couldn't bring himself to rain on Beomgyu's mini parade with such heavy thoughts, though. 

"Thanks, Gyu," Yeonjun said, quiet, eyes averted towards the textbook set aside. "I suppose it is." 

"Suppose? No, it's definitely amazing" Beomgyu corrected him, voice high. "I know you're probably used to it, though, so it's not as cool to you... But bears can't fly, so!"

Yeonjun laughed weakly, looking up at his best friend who's curled into the swivel chair, knees hiked up against his chest, toes fidgeting. Beomgyu, such a little cub, Yeonjun thought. 

"Maybe soon, if it's okay, you could show me sometime? I mean, only if you're comfortable. You're my best friend, but I don't know a whole lot about Dragon-Borns... I really need to change that... Damn..." 

"Back to earth, Beomgyu," Yeonjun cut in just as the Bear-Born began to fall into a spiraling ramble. He swallowed down the gnawing anxiety eating away at him.

Yeonjun could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his filed claws suddenly digging into the top of his thighs, but he held it back. Beomgyu wouldn't see this side of him; Yeonjun didn't want his best friend to be at the expense of his emotional baggage. 

"I don't know, Gyu, it is quite private to me, yeah," Yeonjun responded, feeling that knot of guilt grow in his tummy. "I'm sorry... but it's okay that you asked! Most people don't even ask about these sort of things... they just assume, or worse, touch me. You've seen it for yourself." 

And seen it, Beomgyu had. The times they'd spent dining in at a study-friendly cafe, the way people would nonchalantly crawl up to their table to give unwarranted thoughts on Yeonjun's status as a Dragon-Born, sometimes grabbing for his wings before he even saw it coming. Beomgyu never reacted very kindly, unlike Yeonjun, who would choose to take the passive road much too often, despite his general demeanor of confidence and charm. 

"I understand then, Hyung. Thank you for telling me," Beomgyu smiled, sweet and soft.

Maybe someday. He can shift again, and perhaps with Beomgyu by his side, when he'd finally feel safe in his own skin again.

If.

[1,394]

Yeonjun was seventeen when he knew he was experiencing his first love. 

It wasn't sudden, not at all; there was no moment of realization, no glittery snap of magic in the air, none of that. Instead, it creeped in, gently so, just as the warmth of the summer breeze would pour through Yeonjun's bedroom window on sunny days. 

It was only once the air of mid-July set in, hot and merciless upon them, had Yeonjun finally understood what was stirring inside him. It was always there, thrumming in his chest like a steady engine, but with time, the sensation only increased, raising into something akin to a hammer pounding in the core of his sternum, heavy and emotionally hindering. 

This happened too often when Yeonjun would look at that one boy; the boy who lived right next door for as long as Yeonjun could remember; the boy who never treated him like fragile glass nor an outsider; who grew tall and lean and grossly handsome; who would smile at Yeonjun like he was all the boy could see; who... 

The door bell rang just as it was supposed to on Saturday mornings, and Yeonjun always ran down the stairs to open the front door, just as he was supposed to. 

Soobin was always a catch, stunning even when standing in place. Never once did Yeonjun ever think of Soobin as anything other than beautiful, charming, cunning. Soobin always fit the bill as though it were made for him. 

"Let's fly to Busan today, Hyung!" Soobin was quite spontaneous, not unlike Yeonjun, but sometimes unrealistically so. Busan was hours away, after all. 

"You don't think that'd be something to make plans for, Soobin? I am nowhere near as fast as an airplane or the bullet train, you know that!" Yeonjun moaned, annoyed, but mostly disappointed that he couldn't fulfill Soobin's desires. 

Soobin hummed in acknowledgement, but didn't seem too stricken over it, instead, waltzing into Yeonjun's foyer, like it was nothing, to slip off his sneakers. 

Which it was, indeed, nothing. Soobin had been his lifelong best friend, and Yeonjun's parents were head over heels for the boy, even in spite of his human status. Soobin's second home was right here, on a lonesome street of the outer city suburbs, just a block down from a convenience store and their run-down school, where the sidewalks were covered in shoe-crushed cigarette butts and the leftover chalk from child's play. 

"Movie binge, today, how about that?" Yeonjun suggested, hands already grappling for the sleeve of Soobin's gray hoodie, natural in the manner, thoughtless. "I'm down for any film." 

Soobin's face lit up, eyes crinkling, his top lip curling inward to show those beautiful teeth of his. Yeonjun knew he had the boy hooked for the day. 

"I know exactly what movie to watch first," Soobin nodded in confirmation. 

Soobin was easy to startle on a regular basis. Yeonjun never failed to turn a corner with sudden intent just to get that little screech out of the younger boy, a heavy laugh erupting from Yeonjun's belly upon the sight. 

During these times, though, curled up on the couch, lights off, curtains closed, Soobin was a rock. Horror films were never Yeonjun's cup of tea, to be honest, but he wasn't exactly a scaredy cat. Don't get him wrong, he could handle it just fine, even if that meant he latched onto Soobin each and every time, wings curled in on the younger and himself, like a cocoon of safety.

"Hey, I can't see the TV!" Soobin whined, palms gently pushing Yeonjun's right wing away from his face, where it had slowly but steadily closed in on him, a natural response to Yeonjun's rising fear of a particularly scary scene. 

"I'm sorry!" Yeonjun retorted, huffing out of the movie-fueled fear running through him, but still, he compliantly unfurled his wing from around Soobin. 

"Shh, shh, she's definitely about to die," Soobin responded, eyes glazed upon the television screen. Yeonjun giggled at the way Soobin's lips were held in a pouty circle of awe, bright red light casted across that gorgeous face.

God, Yeonjun was enthralled. 

[1,384] 

"Promise me something, Yeonjun." 

Soobin was always respectful, mindful when concerning honorifics. He often cherished having his best friend be the elder of the two, said so himself, because as much as he was capable of being an endeared person of leadership, he worked even better with Yeonjun as his saving force, alongside him and with an equal, if not just an ounce more, amount of power.

With this being said, if Soobin ever dropped Yeonjun's honorific as his Hyung, something was going on. Yeonjun could count the amount of times he's done so - in a serious manner - with a single hand. Never did it anger Yeonjun, not really, because Soobin was Soobin; just that, no explanation necessary. He was the only person Yeonjun had infallible tolerance for, regardless of the younger boy's penchant for teasing. 

"Promise what?" Yeonjun didn't hesitate, eyes intent on his best friend, the receiver of all his affection, his person, his... love. 

"Just... Promise me, first."

"Mmm... No," Yeonjun teased, a snarky grin adorned. "But what is it, Soobin? Seriously."

The taller of the two looked tense, eyebrows furrowed, that signature pout weighing down on his mouth, hands tied together. Even with the weak cast of the street lights, Yeonjun could see Soobin's face crystal clear, shaping the outline of the younger's cheeks like it was all he knew. 

"Promise that you won't be mad when I tell you what I'm going to tell you, and that you won't stop talking to me afterwards, or get awkward or something. Like what I'm doing right now. Fuck, I'm... Sorry. Just, promise me." Soobin began to sweat, indicated by the shine upon his forehead, all too suddenly. 

To be honest, Yeonjun was hoping for a confession. He was fucking dying for it, in fact. He couldn't lie to himself. In that moment, bottom lip bitten to a painful degree, Yeonjun wished for something he'd wanted for too long. 

So with that, he nodded, eagerly so, and said, "I promise. Absolutely, promise." 

Everything he wanted, Yeonjun got. 

[1,364]

Almost a month in, Yeonjun knew he had met that peak of euphoria. It was beyond the rush of exhilaration that ran through him when he'd shift and lift into the sky, wind beneath those feathered and scaled wings of his. There was nothing that amounted to how it felt to be with Soobin, hands curled together to make one, lips plush upon each other. 

And it was the same for Soobin. He was vocal with his affection towards Yeonjun, always eager to give the elder that reassurance he so desperately needed, telling him how important he was, how beautiful; how ethereal, even. Yeonjun always grew shy during those intimate moments, feeling like he was enclosed in this warm, private space for just the two of them, even if there was an entire city aside them. Strangers walking past would stare, looking in on the little world him and Soobin had made for themselves, but there was nothing a grimaced face or whisper of judgment could do to tear them apart.

Their parents weren't surprised, come to find out. Of course, that doesn't mean they weren't beside themselves in the beginning; they most definitely were not happily obsessed over it, especially Soobin's parents. Interspecies relationships were never praised amongst society, after all, - quite the opposite, in fact - but Soobin and Yeonjun simply didn't care, not when it felt so natural for the two of them. 

Neither did their parents, really. It was only their worries stemming from the societal punishment of it all.

After a week, only seven days, did their parents come around to their boys becoming a couple. Having been so used to the pair being latched at the hip since their early years, the adjustment wasn't harsh, no whiplash involved. 

Twenty days in, and Soobin and Yeonjun's parents were already deciding to hold an intimate dinner together with their sons. It wasn't a huge deal considering they all knew each other quite well, even if the two couples weren't exactly friends. They cared for each other because of their boys' long lived dynamic, simple as that. 

Nonetheless, Yeonjun was riddled with stress.

"Yeonjun-Hyung, you know it's really not something to worry over. We've had plenty of dinners together," Soobin's fingers grazed the nape of Yeonjun's neck in a comforting manner, his other hand curled around the elder's waist. 

Upon Soobin's bed, in his bedroom, in the steady house of his, Yeonjun felt small and wracked with tension. His parents were anxious about tonight, and therefore, he was, too. Their insecurities as a Dragon-Born family were quite prevalent in moments of pressure. 

"I imagine your parents are anxious, too, but I hope you know my parents care for you, deeply. I want you to tell your parents that, okay?" Soobin stood up to lead Yeonjun to the front door, the elder holding onto his boyfriend like he always did when he felt off. 

"I'll see you tonight, yeah? Don't be nervous! I love you always, Hyung," Soobin smiled, reassurance gleaming back at Yeonjun. 

[1,354]

Yeonjun was ready. 

Soobin and him had been going at it for a while now. Anytime Yeonjun so much as gave a thought to it, mind circling around their moments of rushed kisses and touches that went beyond innocent intention, heat would rise in his cheeks the way a rose blooms; beautifully red. 

"If you could be gentle, please. And don't crush my fucking wings, yeah?" Yeonjun scrunched his nose, his face just a hair's width away from Soobin's, hot breath ghosting across the other's lips. 

"Of course I'll be, you know me, Baby," Soobin comforted Yeonjun with a soft kiss, the younger's tongue laving along his bottom lip for no more than a second.

Yeonjun did know Soobin, through and through. His soul was the purest of them, always seeking to help or praise, share kindness without a second thought. Sweet and soft as Soobin was, he was humorous and charming and - much too often - a subtle flirt, never ceasing to make Yeonjun melt into a flustered puddle.

Quite unlike his lover, Yeonjun was sometimes a bit snooty, a tad selfish, a touch temperamental, and instead generally opted for upfront flirtatiousness, obvious to the eye of the beholder. 

Disregarding what someone may have seen as a fault in Yeonjun, Soobin never hesitated to assure Yeonjun of how sweet he really was, how soft and gorgeous; the younger boy's whispers of adoration fresh upon Yeonjun's ears. 

Soobin's hands were large upon Yeonjun's thighs, the elder straddling him, who had been quick to begin moving, adding more pressure each time. Yeonjun sought to get a sound out of Soobin, even if it came as just a whisper, barely a breath. He wanted to make sure Soobin felt good, just as him.

"I know. I know, Soobinnie," Yeonjun leaned back in for a kiss, hard the second time around, teeth meeting the plush of Soobin's bottom lip. 

Yeah, Yeonjun would die for this boy. 

[1,334]

"You remember that one time when we were kids... and we thought it'd be a good idea to try and fly to the mountains?" Soobin asked amidst the chirping of crickets leaking through Yeonjun's bedroom window. 

Yeonjun could barely see the younger boy, but just enough, as the moon lined the edges of Soobin's lithe body with a wash of silver, pearly and fair against his bare skin. He was enthralled, truly, because Soobin was always a sight to see. Yeonjun could never fathom how such beauty lies right here, in the same plane of existence as his. 

"How the hell could I forget that? We got in a fuck load of trouble for it," Yeonjun couldn't help but giggle with how the memories of such a day poured in. 

Soobin giggled right back at him, eyes crinkling as they always did, so stunning, but his smile faded all too suddenly, making Yeonjun's tiny giggles lower to a hush, and then, silence. 

"Well, what if we really went this time? We were kids then, but we're grown now. And... I don't know. It's always been a dream, really," Soobin paused with a slow breath, "I remember how loud the thunder of your wings were as we edged towards the mountains, where the wind was stronger. Didn't even take that long for us to get there, you were so fast then, and even faster now, Hyung... 

I think it'd be beautiful, the two of us, the mountains; nothing else." 

It would be beautiful, wouldn't it?

[1,314] 

The plan was made, but quietly. Soobin and Yeonjun were never the type to spill their lives to everyone, especially their relationship with one another, so it really wasn't hard for them to keep this trip on the down low. 

Yeonjun knew his parents wouldn't be thrilled if they were to find out about a planned escapade to the mountains, shifted, with a human boy they cherish, who was much more vulnerable than their Dragon-Born son; they also worried for Yeonjun, but were more reassured of his safety due to their genetic background. 

Simple as that, except by "thrilled", Yeonjun really meant they'd be pissed. They'd definitely force him to call it off, perhaps even tell Soobin's parents despite the boys being at the ripe ages of sixteen and seventeen; they were still guardians, forever and always. 

So, with that, Yeonjun and Soobin decided best to not tell them - in fact, not tell anyone. It was easy, even though Soobin was the one absolutely vibrating with excitement, therefore a tad too vocal for comfort. Yeonjun had to remind Soobin to keep quiet too many times, in one high school library out of two, the hallway connecting Yeonjun's bedroom to his parent's, wherever. It did a number on Yeonjun's stress levels, but the younger boy was just so ready for a trip he's yearned over for years. 

Yeonjun was more nervous than anything, to be honest. Throughout the week of planning, you could often find Yeonjun with his large wings of pink feather and white scale wound around him, much like a cocoon. Soobin was very aware of Yeonjun's methods of comfort. So, upon noticing the reoccurrence of it throughout the week, he felt as though it was his duty to address the source of Yeonjun's stress. 

"I know what's wrong, Yeonjunnie," Soobin's nickname for him was always a telltale sign that he was intending to comfort the elder, which was always inviting. "You know we don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable - or simply just don't want to! It won't bother me at all. I just... love you that much, okay?" 

Truthfully, this would be a physical challenge on Yeonjun's part, flying such a distance with higher wind speed and foreign terrain, but he could do it, he would for Soobin. That was his boy, after all, his one. 

"No, no," Yeonjun huffed, gently so, then looked up at Soobin as he gave a reassuring smile, "I'm wanting this, too. I'm nervous, yeah, but it'll be so pretty and... another wonderful memory to make with you. I've been stretching my wings in shift more often, just for the trip! I swear."

"But curling them around you anytime you're out of shift. I've been watching you this past week, Baby," Soobin quirked a brow, leaning close to his lover, in his space, just the way Yeonjun liked. The elder steadily unraveled his wings only to shape them around the expanse of Soobin's back, nestling the two boys.

"You're always watching me, we see each other like every day," Yeonjun stuck his tongue out, playfully. 

Soobin went for Yeonjun's tongue with his lips, but ultimately missed when the elder craned his neck back, a high laugh rising from his throat. Yeonjun felt the heat of infatuation rise in his cheeks. 

"Tease! Gross!" Yeonjun groaned in playful defiance, the competitively childish side of him peaked its head out when Soobin was like this - yet Yeonjun always gave in without pressure. His love for Soobin was innate, engrained into his being from the start. There was no denying such a desire.

It would be stunning; just the mountains and them. Perhaps, they could kiss atop a snowy peak, where they would only appear as tiny spots from the sky, alone in their solitude. The wind would caress the apple's of their reddened cheeks, the cold would nip at the tips of their fingers, and it would be so real, so true. Yeonjun could feel himself fall into a spiral of fantasization, mind lingering on the idea of existing, with just Soobin, amidst miles and miles of blinding snow. 

With a slow kiss, Yeonjun felt like they were capable of living through all possibilities.

[1,304] 

Yeonjun was being driven crazy, he was sure, with how the clock ticked at a snail's pace. 3:45 and he would be out of there, away from the stuffiness of the class halls and the impersonal teachers. He knew he'd inevitably come back to these same halls to greet these same teachers in just a few days time, but the impending trip was hot on Yeonjun's mind. It was the getaway he needed, really, and with Soobin, it would be perfect. 

Soobin got out early. Yeonjun knew his schedule by heart - the fact that Soobin was allowed earlier release due to being ahead of the elder on his senior credit game - but his phone vibrating incessantly was also a definite sign that his boyfriend was riddling with impatience. However cute it was, Yeonjun had to turn his phone's vibration mode off, just for the time being.

3:45 hit and, as imagined, Yeonjun wanted to stretch his wings and fly the fuck out of there. Being considerate to others, he obviously opted to not do that, and instead walked with gusto to the rotunda, whipping around fellow students, where Soobin would be waiting in all his tall, handsome glory. 

And there, Soobin was, face glued to the phone until he caught the outline of giant, beautiful wings in his peripheral. Yeonjun was not someone you could miss; Soobin fucking loved that, he always made sure to tell his boyfriend. 

The two were quick to head home, practically racing down the cracked pavement and into Yeonjun's house, up the stairs and finally, his bedroom, where they were already packed and ready from days before. Soobin, however unbearably excited he was, was also a cautious boy. He made sure him and Yeonjun were more than prepared; their full backpacks showed it. 

"Coat, Soobinnie, put it on. Oh, and thermals! and thick socks!" 

"I know, Hyung, I know. Wasn't I the one who packed?" Soobin sent a smartass grin Yeonjun's way. His cheeky side always made the elder want to shut him up with a kiss. And that's exactly what he did. 

"You hush, and get suited up. My parents will be home anytime soon, baby." 

With late Fall already set in, leaves browned, the air nipping when the wind blew through their clothes, the two headed down the streets. It wasn't far enough to bother with taking a bus, plus it was only 4:30, which was ahead of their planned time the two would be leaving. Things were falling into place perfectly. 

"How long before the sun goes down?" Yeonjun asked, forgetting to check amidst the other things he had piled on him. 

Pulling out his phone, Soobin confirmed it would be approximately six o'clock.

"God, we need to go," Yeonjun felt a spark of panic rise in him, "I'm starting to question if I can make it before then. The mountains feel like they're getting farther away the closer we get..." 

Soobin blew air into his cheeks, in thought, "perhaps, you can shift now?"

"Oh yeah, like where, Soobin?" Yeonjun snapped. 

"I don't know? An alley or some shit," Soobin retorted, frustrated but only to a small degree; he was hardly ever strung up over something in the way Yeonjun could often be. 

Nonetheless, Yeonjun simply took a deep breath and decided to swallow down any further annoyances, frustrations, nervousness. This was supposed to be a beautiful experience, not a burden. 

He was too hard on himself. 

Turning off a main city road, the two boys went through multiple alleys before walking out onto a side street, catty-cornered from where they had just been, and again, into another alley they came across just a half block down. It was a wide one, spacious enough for Yeonjun to shift comfortably, and perfectly vacant with it being right off of a smaller street.

Yeonjun shed his clothes under the brick patio of a restaurant alley door with haste. Soobin watched their surroundings with protective, but nervous, eyes. Someone could catch sight of them at any time, or even open the restaurant door Yeonjun is practically up against; the Dragon-Born stripped to the nude, wings almost stretched to their fullest extent. 

Right before stepping out into the center of the alley, to allow himself space, Yeonjun kissed Soobin right on the mouth, tender but with an unveiled passion, fingers curling into his black tendrils. He was always like this right before a shift, the two boys aware that Yeonjun wouldn't be able to communicate with words. Those kisses always felt like sealing a promise to one another, or perhaps a pact, a hand-over of mutual trust. 

Breaking away, Soobin shuffled to stuff Yeonjun's clothes into the elder's backpack, his own weighing down on his back. Right then, Yeonjun was standing in the alley's middle, where the cement dipped to allow rainwater to flow, down to his bare skin with a face of carved marble and wings that could steal the breath right out of you. 

Soobin closed his eyes, right as Yeonjun's entire body tensed up. Yeonjun had asked him long ago to never look, to never give in to the curiosity of how a shift goes down. It was gruesome, Yeonjun told him, the kind of thing that would scare Soobin away. Yet, Soobin knew that was impossible, because he was bound to Yeonjun, as if the gods had written it in the stars; and perhaps, they had. 

Nonetheless, his love for the elder was the exact reason why he never looked, deciding to always respect Yeonjun's wishes. Truthfully, he agreed it'd be hard to watch. The sounds were enough for him, as it is. In fact, they were too much to handle at times.

First, Yeonjun's bones broke all at once, snapping like candy brittle and all too loud to Soobin's ears; forcing a blood curdling scream out of the dragon-born. He hadn't shifted in a while, so he knew the pain would be harder to take, but that didn't mean he was prepared for it. 

His joints tore before his muscles began to fall off the shattered bone, only to stretch and then stretch some more, his skin sliding off of him like hot mud. Yeonjun's entire body reformed itself, morphing, amidst horrific sounds of liquid gushing and landing on the cement, the smell of iron heavy on Soobin's nose. Cracking and popping and screaming; Yeonjun cried so loudly, people were bound to be alerted and heading over any minute.

It hadn't been many times that Soobin experienced Yeonjun shift. They were lifelong best friends, then lovers, that was true, but Yeonjun's shifts were never something he so proudly displayed. He was scared of himself in those moments, and had been comfortable enough to share that dark feeling with his boyfriend long before they became romantic. 

So, this hadn't been Soobin's first time, but that didn't matter, not when he could feel fresh tears bloom from the waterline of his eyes and spill down his cheeks. His lover, his Yeonjun, in pain, unable of being consoled until it ended; it made Soobin shrivel up inside. Plugging his ears did no good when everything was just so loud. Besides, it felt selfish, truly, in a way Soobin could never quite explain. By closing his eyes and blocking out Yeonjun's screams, he felt as though he'd be leaving the elder all alone, unscene and unheard as he'd cry through a shift. 

It finally came to an end, Yeonjun's guttural screams having been drowned out by the sounds of his body's reshaping, soon replaced with the vocal chords of a fire breathing dragon. A piercing screech broke through the silence of the alley, like a phoenix; the mythical birds of flame Soobin read about in children's books, only this was Yeonjun, a dragon. With Yeonjun's ownership of fire and feathers, Soobin thought he wasn't too far off - except he was, because Yeonjun was so much more than that. 

Soobin opened his eyes, a haze of blue washing over his vision at first, but soon enough, he saw his lover, a dragon in the flesh. Yeonjun's large, pointed eyes were set upon him, all pink irises and white pupils. 

With wings of starburst feather, horns of ivory, a body of white scale, and claws that could wipe out an army, Yeonjun was fucking gorgeous. He was big, as one would assume a dragon would be, enough to take up half the alley's width, but on the small side according to other Dragon-Borns. Yet, with a shorter body and slimmer tail, Yeonjun was faster, more aero-dynamic; unbeatable, perhaps. 

Without question, Soobin walked up to Yeonjun, dwarfed by the elder's sheer size. The bottom of Yeonjun's elongated snout met perfectly with the top of Soobin's head, sharp teeth gleaming right at the younger boy. 

Soobin tiptoed to press his nose against Yeonjun's snout, a way of speaking without words. It was all Soobin could do to comfort his lover after the pain of a shift, and it never felt like enough, but Yeonjun was inexplicably grateful, enamored over Soobin's touch. 

The twitch of his wings and rise of his pinked feathers told Soobin all he needed to know. Yeonjun was strong, always, but he took in Soobin's love like it was his lifeblood.

Most people would have been terrified, absolutely jumping out of their skin, upon seeing such a dangerous creature. Yeonjun could sizzle you to nothing with his firey breath, all teeth and forked tongue and red hot flames. He could claw away at your belly with a single swipe, perhaps slam you into the ground with his scaled tail, but Yeonjun was a creature of emotion, gentle to his core, and Soobin always saw through his charming arrogance. 

Yeonjun was quick to lower his body as to allow Soobin to climb on, to which the younger boy intertwined his fingers into Yeonjun's pink mane of feather. Slightly digging a foot into Yeonjun's flank, Soobin was forced to pull hard on his feathers in order to raise himself up and swing a leg over so he could straddle Yeonjun's upper back, just at the junction of the dragon-born's scaled neck and shoulder.

From atop the elder's back, Soobin saw how Yeonjun's scales caught the sunlight so beautifully, gleaming like freshwater pearls, dewy and bright. His feathers, soft and long and the perfect shade of pinked blush, swayed with the breeze that tunneled through the alley. There was no doubt Yeonjun's perfection translated even in his dragon-shift. However small he was for one, Yeonjun was the most stunning of them all. The elder's family had always made sure to tell their boy that he was a remarkable looking dragon, and a fast one at that.

Lucky for Soobin, Yeonjun was just large enough to withstand the weight of the stuffed backpacks hooked around his ivory horns. It was slightly straining, the kind where he knew it would ache like a bruised muscle after more than an hour, but enough to deal with. He didn't want Soobin to struggle carrying both bags while also holding onto his feathers for the sake of extra clothes, snacks, and water, especially when they wouldn't be in the mountains for very long.

Thinking about the sunset just then, how gorgeous it would be to see from the peak of a mountain with Soobin, Yeonjun released a final screech, signifying to the younger boy that he was to take flight at any moment. 

They needed to get on with it, it was nearing five pm, and the sunset would be at six. It would take at least thirty minutes to get there, and that would be if Yeonjun was going top speed, which was much too dangerous for the younger boy seated on his back. 

Responding to Yeonjun's signal, Soobin gave a firm tug to the dragon-born's feathers, telling his lover he was ready. 

Before anyone could have spotted them, Yeonjun didn't hesitate to take to the air. He extended his wings, strong and mighty in their nature, and then struck the wind like thunder, making Soobin's ears ring, but he loved it nonetheless.

Everything was sideways, and Soobin was fucking terrified. Yeonjun was flying almost completely diagonal to the Earth; much more anxiety-inducing than those commercial airplanes Soobin had taken a few times in his life. 

He launched himself high, higher than the tops of the buildings, and past that, until the structures were all jumbled together, interlocked like small puzzle pieces. 

Soobin held tight all the while, having curled his body around Yeonjun for protection, hands fisted into the feathers of his lover, gritting his teeth to the point of discomfort. This was never the fun part of flying, after all.

Lucky for Soobin, it wasn't long before Yeonjun reached a desirable distance from the ground, to which he leveled himself, parallel to the earth. His wings were spanned, simply holding them up, as the dragon-born adopted a relaxed speed. 

Soobin sighed in relief, then took a deep exhale, the wind crisp in his lungs and chilly on his skin. Yeonjun remained cautious, wishing so deeply that he could speak to Soobin, so he instead chose to take it slow for just a moment, even if they were running on little time. His lover needed a break after the takeoff. He was human, after all, not a dragon who was born to conquer the skies. 

It wasn't long before Soobin was ready, assuring Yeonjun with a caress of his feathered neck and the words, "I love you, my dragon, now let's chase that sun."

So, they did. Yeonjun once again propelled himself against the wind, wings breaking sound. Yeonjun couldn't hear a thing past the wind rushing through his ears, not even the harsh beat of his own wings. He could feel the strain of his muscles against the air, and Soobin's body still lying on the base of his neck, the boy's fingers fisting his feathers so tightly, it hurt just the slightest bit. 

Below them, the city passed like a blur, vague in color against the bluest of skies. Soon enough, Soobin saw the rush of buildings begin to dwindle, as they reached the edge of the city to meet peaks of white, which lead to the mountains. It had to have only been fifteen minutes since they made way, but already, the couple had left the city. 

Here, where the earth turned from a metropolis of cement and brick to the sparkle of snow banks, the wind sped up. Soobin watched as Yeonjun's wings faltered just a bit, causing them to fall in elevation by quite a few feet, and ultimately forcing the dragon to slow down against the air current. Soobin felt his stomach jump up into his throat upon the initial drop, immediately curling himself around Yeonjun's body of scales and feather once again. 

Yeonjun was determined, as he tended to be for just about every challenge, but especially anything that involved Soobin. He wanted to watch how the sun would caress the angles of his lover's face, a rosey blush against the bank of pale white. He wanted to kiss Soobin and have no one but mother nature see, under watchful eyes of rock and snow and creature. 

To do so, he had to be fast, he had to take the current and make it his. Yeonjun was born to exist amongst the clouds, to manipulate the wind under his wings however he pleased, the way a dragon should. 

With this, he gained speed, battling the rough like a familiar opponent. His wings ached, but Yeonjun's heart was singing from the excitement of an impending arrival. The instinct of a dragon surfaced within him, rising before completely boiling over. It sent a rush of adrenaline through Yeonjun, making his scales flex all the way down him in a sudden, strong wave, his long body trembling with each undulation, all the way down to the tip of his tail. 

It felt amazing, truly, as the current remained defeated by the power of Yeonjun's wings and sleek scales. Just ahead, the mountains grew bigger and bigger, decreasing in distance. The sun was beginning to dip already, a portion of its glow hidden behind the points of the mountainous valley. 

Gorgeous, Yeonjun thought, captivating. A spark of giddiness ran through him at the sight, and with this, another commotion from his scales, the downy feathers of his neck and center line of his back joining in as they stood straight up. It was much more dramatic this time, a display of how strongly Yeonjun felt, something that remained even through his shift. 

Yet, this was one of those moments where he found himself in a spiraling into a bout of self-disdain. The dragon-born's penchant for taking things on with infallible emotion often resulted in regret, embarrassment, guilt. Of course, there was some good amongst the bad; his passion, his determination, his undying love for Soobin.

His boyfriend adored all those things about him, the pros and cons of Yeonjun, his faults and his perfections. Soobin was verbal with affection; he always loved the way Yeonjun was a person of major duality, how he'd be quick to snap at a rude stranger (especially those who were prejudice against their interspecies relationship), but giggle when someone complimented him, crinkle his eyebrows in the name of jealousy when someone got a tad too close to Soobin, but immediately cultivate a friendship with a person who was willing. 

To Soobin, Yeonjun was all he could see. 

Yeonjun never dreamed of having someone else, when there was no one else like that boy, Soobin.

Choi Soobin...

Yeonjun didn't feel a weight on his back, the base of his elongated neck. He couldn't recall the moment it happened, but that was a fleeting thought, because it had, and now he was falling into a panic. 

Yeonjun didn't hear the shrill erupt from his throat, breaking through the sky like thunder, raised like the flames in his belly. His mind fogged out of fear, horror, the inexplicable dread of realization. He couldn't feel the way his wings bent too far back upon his descent, his scales spiked, the backpacks unhooking from his horns.

Soobin was plummeting, the freezing air whipping through the boy's clothes. His hair was caught around the circles of his cheeks, and Yeonjun could make out the sheer terror on his lover's face, even from hundreds of feet below.

That's when he understood. 

The wind barreled into the dragon-born, slowing him down, immeasurably. Soobin was isolated in a backdrop of snowy peaks, bathed in the sunset's gold. He was beautiful even then, stricken with fear of what may happen, what was happening. 

Yeonjun then took a dive, straight down, furling his wings against him, taking shape of an arrow in attempt to cut through the rough winds, but it was just so difficult, futile. The current felt like it was coming from all directions, and he couldn't hold himself steady. 

Perhaps, the mountains were something to never be met, at least not by two boys with hearts that beat for one another, with a naivety only teenagers could possess, and an irrational dream to obtain something so far in the distance. 

Perhaps, Yeonjun was a piece of shit, because he allowed this to happen. He gave the go - the green fucking light; he let Soobin's irrational fantasization of aiming for the sky and making love amidst the impossibly bold terrain get the best of him. Yeonjun always wanted to give his boy what he wanted, and he did, and now, his boy was out of his reach. 

Plainly, Yeonjun was simply not fast enough. 

From Yeonjun's place in the sky, Soobin was still beautiful, even when the landing came. He was a speckle of bright red against the whitest of snow, a bloomed rose atop an untouched canvas. Yet, the red seeped, like water color, tainting the perfection of snowfall. 

And there was Yeonjun, a dragon that was known as this undefeatable creature, horns and wing and claws. A being that couldn't quite understand - couldn't fathom - what just happened. 

Did it happen? It didn't. 

It did. 

No... Maybe, perhaps, it didn't. 

Yeonjun became dazed, dizzy, and ultimately landed hard, rolling as his wings folded beneath him, painfully. The weight of his body bent them backward right at the joints. His body throbbed, the cold only highlighting the stiffness of his muscles, but he was so numbed out. The sight before him made the physical pain feel akin to a single prick of a finger.

He didn't remember shifting back, even as Yeonjun saw his pinked feathers blow away in the wind, perhaps all the way up to the snowy mountain peaks the boys never reached, and even as his scales slid off of him like molten rock, a face of full lips and feline eyes morphing from the snout of a dragon. 

Yeonjun only recalled how Soobin, his Soobin, laid there. Many, many feet away from him, but so clear, and so red. 

By the time Yeonjun managed to crawl to the boy, fighting against the deep snow, the blood had already formed a giant circle around Soobin, like a wicked aura, practically neon against the stark cold. It was entirely too much to handle. 

It hadn't quite sunk in, but Yeonjun knew it was fault. 

It was his fault. 

It was all his god damn fault. 

Yeonjun wished for himself to die, right then and there. 

"No... No, no, no, no, no..." 

All too suddenly, his screams of horror and anguish ripped through the sky of orange sunset, cutting into the whip of the freezing air. His pained howls echoed across the bleached banks, up to the peaks, and above. Yet, his sorrow was heard by no one, nothing but the isolation of nature calling back to him. 

The elder held Soobin, his cursed wings wrapping around them in a protective cocoon, the way Yeonjun always did in his vulnerable moments.

Yeonjun cried bloody murder, his vocal chords tearing, swelling in his throat. Tearing away from Soobin, vomit rose from his belly to mix with the seep of red that formed a halo around his boy. Tears blurred his vision, and then, all Yeonjun could see was a fusion of white and red and gray, the putrid green of his own sick. 

His body was trembling as the air threw snow against his back, like the dust of a sandstorm. Yeonjun, frazzled, wiped away the frost beginning to gather on Soobin's bloodied face. Goosebumps littered the skin of Yeonjun's naked body, fingers stinging from the bitter cold. His eyes burned as the wind blew through. 

The blood of his lover was hot on Yeonjun's hands as he pawed at Soobin's chest, finding himself to be bathed in the red as he laid his whole body upon the younger's, legs on either side of his lover. Soon enough, his palms became sticky with the mess, a shade of claret, but already drying into the crevices of his skin from how harsh the cold was.

He couldn't hold back the screams. He choked on his own saliva, but his shrills of distress broke through the surface each and every time, grinding down on his throat like sandpaper.

Soobin was a gorgeous sight to see, from the day he was brought into the world, to the day he was ripped away from it. He was as perfect as the works of Michael Angelo, so fair and appearing so soft, only to be cold and still, lifeless, the way marble has always been. 

A human child of Earth, loved by so many for his charm, intellect, empathy, his humbled confidence and light-hearted humor. Soobin was someone meant to live, experience the up's and down's of growing old. He was someone who was meant to die by the inevitability of withered age, perhaps with offspring by his side, loyal friends crying above him. 

Yeonjun took that away from Soobin the moment they headed for the mountains. He was to blame, and he just knew he was the one who deserved to take his lover's place. Soobin was too good for him, always had been, and now, right where they laid, Yeonjun had proved himself right. 

Emptiness was glazed over the human boy's still eyes, a shell of someone that once was. His skin was palor, whiter than ice, and blood had spilled from atop his head, nose, the waterline of his eyes, the corner of his lips, his ears. His bones were broken, bent at horrid angles, a consequence of falling from such a height.

In desperation, perhaps denial, Yeonjun leaned over and gave a firm kiss to Soobin's lips. He wished for such a kiss to ignite the flame of vigorous life within his boy, but instead Soobin's lips were cold as ice. The taste of iron was so heavy on Yeonjun's tongue, he felt his stomach twist. Yet, he stayed put, tears dripping upon the apples of Soobin's bloodied cheeks. 

Light of the day had mostly disappeared, the western mountains swallowing it whole. Blue hour had come, then, washing over his lover in a shade of cornflower, coloring the lifeblood of Yeonjun's boy into something close to black.

Yeonjun didn't remember much after that, really. It was all too earth-shattering, like the universe had decided to crumble on itself, like wet paper, disassembling into millions of tiny particles, allowing the sun to drift away into nothingness.

With the blood of his lover clinging to his skin as if it were his own, Yeonjun was to never be the same again. 

[0]

People say healing comes with time, that things will get better, and that self-forgiveness is a golden token of the space between the times of past and current. Those same people believe the emotion of what once was fades down to a bearable lukewarm.

Yeonjun wants to agree, so desperately. Yet, that dreaded evening circles his mind as though it had happened just the week before, only, it had been 1,304 days ago, and Yeonjun was very much living a different life now compared to then. 

Perhaps, it was Beomgyu finding out he can shift that drudged up those memories, although they lie in the shallows of Yeonjun's brain quite too often. His best friend, naive and giddy as he is, has no idea how touchy that topic is for Yeonjun. It's not his fault, either, because how could Beomgyu know something Yeonjun has never told him? 

It's such a tremendous secret, too. Soobin was a significant pillar in the make of Yeonjun's childhood and teenage years, and yet Yeonjun hasn't spoken a word about him to his college best friend, or anyone, actually. Only those who already knew Soobin, and even then, Yeonjun likes to bury his feelings deep inside him, never open to conversing about the happenings of his lover. 

Initially, Yeonjun was ostracized. The word spread about Soobin; of course it did. Soobin was loved by many, renowned as a top student and charmer of all the boys and girls, but loyal to Yeonjun, only, and people knew that. So, when they found out what happened, their reaction was of shock, but then turned into something sinister, judgmental, angry. They ridiculed rather than mourned, and Yeonjun experience the brunt of it all. 

Soobin's family, though, their response was the hardest to swallow. The mother of that boy, the woman who always held Yeonjun like a child of her own despite the wings spread across his back, couldn't bear to even look at him. Soobin's father, unlike his wife who was quiet with her resentment, had berated Yeonjun. And Yeonjun was okay with it, in the way one could be okay with accidentally killing the love of their life and having to face the parents of said boy. 

When Soobin's father had hurt him, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him desperately, grappled for his wings of feather and scale and yanked, yanked so hard they almost bled, Yeonjun took it like a man at the young age of seventeen. He didn't sob, he didn't ask for forgiveness, didn't even make an excuse, because there was nothing to say other than... sorry. 

I'm sorry, Yeonjun had said, and meant it, but it was fruitless, because Soobin's father was beyond hearing anything Yeonjun had to say. He simply wanted to inflict, show Yeonjun how much he was hurting by slapping his face and telling him how shameful of a Dragon-Born he was, how he should've never trusted Soobin in Yeonjun's company.

It hurt, so deep to his core. Yeonjun was mourning his lover, and selfishly, he thought perhaps he was mourning the most. He was the one who'd never get to kiss Soobin's soft lips again, he was the one who'd never get to wake up with the boy's warmth against his back, he was the one who'd never get to comb his fingers through those black tendrils of hair, the way he always did. 

But then, Yeonjun came to, and he realized that a parent's love for their child is incomparable to a lover's. Strong as they both were, he couldn't say that he felt the grief the way Soobin's parents did, because there was no competition as to how much one felt over the other. It was simply two forms of pain that were perfectly parallel, never to touch. 

He wouldn't tell Soobin's father how much he hated himself for what happened, because what good would that do? It would have come across as self pity, and Yeonjun was never one for such a thing. Instead, he allowed the grief of Soobin's parents to thunder down on him. 

Soobin's sister stopped talking to him the same evening her brother died. She had nothing to say to him, and rather than get in Yeonjun's face, spit on him like he deserved, she disappeared like a ghost. For Yeonjun, this hurt more than Soobin's father grabbing at him, or his lover's mother avoiding eye contact. Soobin's sister, who shares the same bunny smile and crescent eyes as her younger brother, never wanted to see him again, and that's exactly what happened. The one girl who he grew up with alongside Soobin, like a sister of his own, stripped herself from Yeonjun's life, and that's fine. Perfectly okay, because it's what Yeonjun deserves.

It's been almost four years. Yeonjun has no idea where she is, if she's okay, and he has no clue as to how Soobin's parents are doing, either. After the funeral - a ceremony Yeonjun wasn't welcomed to, which ripped him to shreds, but perhaps saved him from the fact that Soobin died in such bad shape, an open casket wasn't even an option - it was like they all ceased to exist, but Yeonjun knows better. He was simply outcasted by them, everyone in fact, from his classmates to his late boyfriend's entire family. 

What's remained, really, are his parents, but their own resentment reered its ugly head in different ways than Soobin's family. Yeonjun knows his mother sees him in a different light since then, with the way her hugs aren't so tight anymore, and her calls are far and few between. She may talk sweet to him, but it's almost like she does it as a motherly duty and responsibility, rather than out of sheer love. 

As for his father, Yeonjun had never been very close to him. He loved his dad, of course, respected him the way a son should, but his father was always closed off and strict. He was ashamed of Yeonjun, the boy could see it. He may have not said it, but his eyes always told. As a Dragon-Born, Yeonjun should have known better than to think a human boy could handle what was simply natural to Yeonjun. He was raised being told that he was mighty, and was constantly reminded that just because he was strong and able to take flight, it didn't mean everyone lived with the same peak of physicality as him. 

Yet, Yeonjun had been so, so stupid. He trusted in Soobin so much, he had forgotten that his lover was only a human, fragile and flightless, small however tall, only skin and bones rather than feather and scale. 

And so, Yeonjun was taught a lesson, one he'd never forget, and forget he hasn't. 

"Yeonjun." 

For a second, Yeonjun thinks he hears that low pitch of his late lover ring in his ears. It was nothing but wishful thinking, Yeonjun knows; unrealistic but fantasized. He was aware it wasn't true. 

Beomgyu sometimes sounds like Soobin, since they share similar vocal ranges, deeper than Yeonjun's. Secretly, Yeonjun holds onto those short-lived moments where his best friend reminds him of his late lover. It breaks him each and every time, just because it's a gruesome reminder that Soobin was, in fact, no longer here, in the same plane of existence. 

In these moments, he sometimes even see that bank of snow, reddened with blood, Soobin cold and lifeless, flash across his vision, like a trauma he couldn't shed. He always has to shake himself of it, scrunch his eyes closed, put his head between his legs, and then lie and say he was just tired when Beomgyu would ask what's wrong. He knew his best friend could tell he was lying, though, could see it in Beomgyu's face that he was wary, but the younger boy never spoke a word about it.

Sipping on a mug of coffee that's much too sweet for the elder's taste, adorned in a fuzzy jacket, Beomgyu looks soft and warm like the Bear-Born he is, sitting across from Yeonjun in a study-friendly cafe. 

Yeonjun looks up from his textbook, feeling a sense of deja-vu run through him from that night in their dorm just two days ago, when Beomgyu mentioned the shifting of dragons. 

"Hm, Beomgyu? What's up?" Yeonjun responds, before picking up his own mug and taking the smallest of sips, almost as though he's just trying to find something to do with his hands. For some reason, he feels nervous, and it shows in the tremble of his fingers. 

"I've been thinking," Beomgyu says, pausing. The chatter of people rises in the silence between the two, but then, "I feel like... There's just... Something you haven't told me. And I don't want to be pushy, God knows, but you're my best friend. I wonder sometimes is all, because you don't talk a whole lot about your past, really." 

Beomgyu, a rambler as always, finishes just like that, quite unliked himself. Nothing else to say. The shake in Yeonjun's fingers becomes all too prevalent, and he knows Beomgyu notices, because it'd be obvious to anyone in the cafe if they were to look over at their table. 

The silence is thick between them, at least to the elder. He always knew this day would come. After all, Beomgyu was someone who he so strongly cherished, it was a given that the boy was to find out, some day. 

And so, with a deep sigh, Yeonjun prepares to speak of something he hasn't even made a peep about for the first time in years. He opens his mouth, lips hanging around words he knows have to be said. He's surprised he's even willing to take the dive into uncharted territory like this.

"Just listen, okay?" Yeonjun's face is straight, serious, his nails clicking against the sides of his coffee mug. Beomgyu curtly nods, silent.

"When my family and I moved here, to the city, my parents wanted to live in a suburb. Very much unlike the rural country I barely even remember. Only thing I can recall is how lonely it was, not that it matters, but..." Yeonjun begins. 

Beomgyu remains quiet, simply nursing the mug of coffee in both hands. 

"Anyway," Yeonjun takes a quick breath, deep all the while, "we moved next door to this one family, husband and wife with two children, a boy and a girl. The girl was quite a bit older, but the boy was only a year younger than me. His name was Soobin, and we grew up together very close. People always said we were two peas in a pod. He was my best, best friend, the first, in fact." 

"Go on, I'm listening," the black ears upon Beomgyu's head twitch. However talkative, the younger boy is an attentive listener. It's just one of many things Yeonjun loves about the Bear-Born. 

"Okay... When Soobin and I got older, he was like... Sixteen? So, I was seventeen. And he confessed to me, told me he was in love with me. Thing is," Yeonjun huffs, and finds himself looking up and outside through the wide window aside them, reeling over that day with fondness. "I was always in love with him. God, I was fucking head over heels, actually. Like, if I could have, I'd kiss the ground he walked on. Sounds so silly, but it's just how it was." 

"Was?" Beomgyu interjects. It startles Yeonjun just a bit, and he feels his grip tighten around the mug.

"Um," Yeonjun looks down from the outside, where the sun has begun to fall, bathing the cafe in a warm orange. It's the same color Yeonjun remembers seeing cascade over the mountain tops, when evening had just set in. 

"Yeah, was. Only a few months into our relationship, him and I decided to take a trip to the mountains. It was initially Soobin's idea. He was just really excited, and we had tried to do it before, but we were a lot younger, and it was more of an attempt than the actual thing. We didn't even make it out of the city before our parents found us. Oh Lord, we were scolded so badly."

Yeonjun laughs, weakly and pained, "thing is - I somehow forgot to mention this to you - Soobin was a human, unlike you and I. He wasn't like me in the slightest, and sometimes people were really prejudice about it, because they saw me as a predator and him as a victim. It was fucking stupid, but it's not something you're unfamiliar with," Yeonjun looks at his best friend, and Beomgyu looks back with knowing eyes. 

As a Bear-Born, the younger boy had experienced the ridicule of others, those who saw him as a dangerous creature just because he had the teeth of a bear and claws that were quite dangerous, but never used in violence. Beomgyu is, perhaps, the most gentle person Yeonjun has ever known, in fact.

"So, we headed for the mountains. Didn't tell anyone, not even our parents..." 

All too suddenly, Yeonjun feels himself falling into an abyss, away from the warm atmosphere of the cafe, away from his best friend, down a pit of darkness. Having never spoken about this to anyone who hadn't been around when it happened, Yeonjun begins to float outside of his body, as though he's watching someone else speak in his place.

Dissociating is something he isn't totally unfamiliar with, just something he developed after losing Soobin, really. He's learned to cope with it, because there's nothing else to do other than survive, keep going. 

"I... Uh," Yeonjun shakes. He needs to leave. He feels like he needs to stand up and run. His legs begin to fidget on their own, feet growing numb. "Can we go back to the dorm, Gyu? I don't want to talk about this here. And I feel kind of... Sick."

Immediately noticing Yeonjun's anxiety growing, Beomgyu nods, and quickly shuffles to grab their things and pack up. He even does it for his best friend, stuffing papers and books into Yeonjun's bag, then standing up and helping him put his backpack on, abandoning their drinks.

It doesn't take long to get to their shared dorm, considering the cafe is just around the corner. Slipping inside, away from the winter cold, Beomgyu quickly goes in for a hug, wrapping his arms around Yeonjun so tight as to help ground his best friend. 

"Do you want to finish talking about it? We can stop here, if you'd like, Hyung," Beomgyu reassures, pressing Yeonjun's head into the crook of his neck, even if it means Yeonjun has to bend over just a bit. 

"No, Gyu, it's okay. You're my best friend," Yeonjun sighs into Beomgyu's neck, his own breath fanning around his face in a rush of warmth. Yeonjun feels the heat spread through him, and to his relief, he begins to come back to himself. "You deserve to know everything about me." 

Guiding Yeonjun, Beomgyu sits them both on the bed, side by side. He doesn't let go of his best friend, though, opting to lean his head on his shoulder and wrap their hands around one another. 

Yeonjun folds his wings around them, cocooning them as means to feel safe and warm, in their own bubble. It reminds him of all the times he'd do this with Soobin, in bed, holding each other like they were the only people left on Earth.

Yeonjun begins, trying to remember where he stopped, and then, "so, we headed for the mountains..." 

By the time Yeonjun finishes, suprising himself with how he managed to not cry, he looks over to see Beomgyu with tears in his eyes. He can tell his best friend is holding back, but Yeonjun looks over with a face so soft, a small, pained smile gracing his lips, and that's when Beomgyu begins to full-on cry. 

His tears rush down his face in heavy droplets, nose scrunched and a rosey hue rising across his cheeks, lips reddened and nose sniffling. 

"I get why," Beomgyu hiccups, wiping away his own tears, "why, um, you were so private about shifting. Fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying. You should be! I mean, I don't want you to cry, but... You know. I'm sorry I even asked about it, Yeonjun." 

Yeonjun shakes his head, and that's when he realizes he is actually starting to cry, because the tears bordering his waterline begin to fall upon his cheeks from the vigor of turning his head. Then, he's sobbing, and he can't stop. 

His wings tremble, tightening around the two, but Beomgyu is okay with it. He says nothing about it.

For the first time in four years, Yeonjun cries hard. He thinks he sees Soobin standing there, right in front of them, tall and lanky, amidst his tear-blurred eyes. He's just a wavy figment, out of focus, and not actually there - Yeonjun knows - but he feels like Soobin is watching. 

"It's okay. Cry if you need to, Hyung," Beomgyu sniffles, and reaches up to thumb away Yeonjun's hot tears. 

Yeonjun hears the cries slip from his lips, knows people outside their dorm can hear how loud and strong his pain is, but he can't care. He let's himself free, let's the emotions he buried rise to the surface like boiling water spilling over the sides of a pot. 

They sit there, for what feels like hours, in their dorm, on a cold evening just like the night Yeonjun hurt Soobin for good. 

Perhaps, when the time comes, Yeonjun will be ready to show Beomgyu his shift, let his best friend see his dragon, with scales of pearly white and pink, startling eyes. Some day, he'll display how his wings unfurl, beautiful and mighty and dangerous. 

But for now, Yeonjun isn't ready, and that's alright. Beomgyu tells him so, assures him that there's no pressure to worry about, despite his mother pushing any time she calls him, however rare those moments may be. 

Like a flame in the darkest and coldest of nights, Soobin holds a warm grip on Yeonjun's heart like no other. Even out of his grasp, Soobin remains, so clear in Yeonjun's mind, as though tangible. Yeonjun likes to imagine Soobin is watching him from wherever his lover may be. He knows Soobin would want him to take care of himself, but Soobin has to wait.

Even if denying himself of shifting is unhealthy for his body, and even if he'll be forced to settle with the fact that it'll come sooner rather than later, Yeonjun is willing to hold back while he can.

Fuck it, he'll suffer the consequences. 

"Yeonjun..." 

He thinks he hears Soobin call his name, but he knows it's Beomgyu.

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry to yeonjun, soobin, and my readers.
> 
> the perfectionist in me came out during the writing process, so a month passed before i even completed this! let's hope it's not total shit. 
> 
> if you didn't realize 1,304 is a nod to txt's debut, 0304, 2017 is the year of soobin and yeonjun's love-turned-tragedy, and each number signifies how many days are left until you enter present times.
> 
> thank you so much for reading. kudos and comments are heavily appreciated. us fan authors thrive off of your love.
> 
> you can find me on twitter @soobknot


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